


The Roaming Eye

by Corporate_Blood



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood Drinking, Direwolf (ASOIAF), Eventual Smut, F/M, Magic Shop, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Urban Fantasy, Vampire!Ramsay - Freeform, Vampires, Wendigo, Wendigo!Euron, Werewolf!Sandor, Witches, witch!sansa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corporate_Blood/pseuds/Corporate_Blood
Summary: The sun was setting and as things began to wind down in the human world, magic was waking up and had many needs to fulfil.Sansa is in for a long night...
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark & Euron Greyjoy, Sansa Stark & Lady (ASOIAF)
Kudos: 2
Collections: /r/FanFiction Trope Bingo Events





	1. Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Woo urban fantasy! I can't believe how little there is of this AU in the GoT/ASOIAF fandom.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy the first chapter ^_^

Dusk settled and business began to wind down for the day. Cafes took their chalkboards in along with their outdoor furniture. Lights were switched off inside the chain shops and Sansa watched a little forlornly as the glow within Waterstones was snuffed out. Shutters were shutted and owners slipped out the back doors, their employees heading down the street to the nearby car park, bus stop, or just to walk home. The only things that were still open were the 24-hour fast food joints and supermarkets. 

It was quiet when Sansa brightened up the shop to a warm glow, and when she ducked outside to put out her own chalkboard (charmed for easy and visible reading) the last of the setting sun shined upon her shop. She turned to scan over the window display, the wind played with her red hair. 

Various magical items, the newest and most cutting edge, lay cushioned upon green velvet. A wide range of disciplines were carried; from the fire worshipers of R’hllor, to the tried and tested spell books, to hotly debated divination. Potions in different coloured bottles and varying sizes stood next to signs denoting who the potions were for and listing their ingredients. A mix of fresh and dried ingredients were placed in wooden bowls with plaques explaining their use. Above the door was the shop’s name; _The Roaming Eye._ The lettering was painted in white and curved under the logo - a large unblinking green eye. Satisfied with how everything looked, Sansa headed back inside. 

She trotted around straightening items on shelves and brushing away what little dust had settled, idling as she waited for the regulars to turn up. She swept her hair up into a bun and secured it with a scrunchie. Sansa's uniform was of her own making but not as feminine or beautiful as the rest of her wardrobe. A long-sleeved top, comfortable jeans, sturdy boots, and an apron with large pockets - all black of course. She had tried to be fashionable in the beginning but quickly found that comfy material in dark shades was the way to go.

It was only five minutes after she opened when a knock was heard at the basement door. Well, it was more of a _bang_ really, but it was as polite as one could expect from him. Lady, her direwolf familiar, looked at the trapdoor. It was thick steel and large - taking up most of the floor space behind the counter. Sansa knelt down and pressed a hand to the cool metal. With a _clunk_ the wards were lifted and the trapdoor opened. They descended the steps and into the basement. 

The walls were bare brickwork and the frigid air made goosebumps ripple across her arms. The wooden steps creaked as they walked, coming to a stop a few feet away from the exit. This door was also thick steel and beside it was a metal chute. She crossed to the door, Lady at her side, and peered out through the peephole.

A pale, emaciated, twitching figure stood on the other side. He was tall even as he doubled over. His skin was stretched taut over his bones. Dark hair grew in sparse patches atop his skull and hung limply around his face, curtaining his features as he looked away. 

“Hello Euron,” she said softly. Sound wasn’t able to pass through but the wards gave exemption to her voice. 

Euron turned. He couldn’t actually see her but he managed to stare straight at her. His face was gaunt and long, stretched like the rest of his body. He had mismatched eyes, the blue one with which he currently showed her, and a red one which was hidden behind his hair. Theon, a selkie and Euron’s nephew, called it the ‘smiling eye’. And sure enough he gave her a smile - showing off his long bloodstained fangs. Both his eyelids and lips were gone, chewed or frozen off, giving him an unblinking stare and exposing more of his teeth.

 _“Hello,”_ he said back, mimicking her voice. She suppressed a shudder, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Wendigos, for that is what Euron was, had the unsettling ability to mimic voices. It was like hearing a distorted recording of a human voice. Euron had now moved out of sight over to his side of the metal chute. He was hungry. Wendigos were always hungry.

Wasting no time, she set about fetching food. From the large walk-in freezer, a raw pig carcass was retrieved. It was then wheeled over and chucked down the chute. The sounds of scrabbling and flesh tearing echoed up the metal.

“Enjoy Euron,” she called, voice bouncing around inside the chute.

 _“Enjoy,”_ came the mimicked reply followed by deep and strange cackles. This time she couldn’t repress her shudder. She snapped the chute lid shut and squeezed her eyes closed as she reinforced the wards around her shop. 

Lady nudged at her legs and Sansa buried a hand in her soft, grey fur as they walked over to the panic room. The door was locked and she opened the viewing hatch.

The room was dark, a figure rising in the gloom with a groan. “How are you feeling, Sandor?” She inquired.

“Like shit,” he gruffly replied. 

She gave a little laugh. “Do you want to get dressed?” 

“Yeah.” She took a moment to mutter the unlocking spell and then hauled the door open. It too was metal, akin to a vault door though not as thick. She gathered up his clothes from a locker and handed it to him in a neat pile. In the gloom, he dressed, and she turned to cast an eye over the stock. Wine racks hung on the opposite wall though they contained bottles of blood. Sealed and labelled, they hung securely as they chilled. She heard noise from behind her as Sandor stepped into the dim light.

He was large, though nothing compared to Euron or even himself once he transformed. He wore a plain t-shirt, faded jeans, an old leather jacket, and scuffed work boots. His hair was long to cover the burned side of his face but he didn’t seem to care today as he had swept it back. Dark bags shadowed his grey eyes and he fixed her with a tired look. 

“So, how much do I bloody owe you?” He asked, rummaging around in his pockets.

“Same as you do every month. I told you, it’s a fixed rate.” He nodded absently at this and began to count the wad of cash he had on hand. “Unless you would like to try potions?”

A shake of the head. “No potions.”

“A new wolfsbane batch had just been developed. A German team is spearheading the progress and they are so close to making a breakthrough-”

 _“They won’t work,”_ he snarled, fixing her with a sharp look. Lady’s hackles were up, teeth showing in warning. She nodded and tried to soothe her familiar. “Trust me, little bird,” he sighed. He then handed her the cash.

“Still if you ever wish to try…”

“I won’t. And now I’m off to my shit hole flat. See you next full moon, little bird.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, ruffled Lady’s fur, before heading up the stairs. With a sigh, Sansa checked through the peephole once more. 

Euron was gone and he had left a mess by the chute. Blood and leftover flesh soaked into the dirt and she had half a mind to clean it up now whilst she still had energy. Movement in the bushes halted her. She squinted and saw the outline of the wendigo hunkered down in the large, shadow hidden shrubbery. She couldn’t tell from here but she guessed he had rubbed dirt and blood onto himself to mask the stand out paleness as he lied in wait. 

_An ambush._

Goosebumps sprang up all over her flesh and Lady herded her toward the stairs. Before heading up, she grabbed two bottles of blood, securing them in the mini-fridge behind the counter before shutting the trapdoor and rearming the wards. 


	2. 8:24 PM

A cup of freshly brewed tea warmed her hands and she sat at the small table with a sigh. Lady lay at her feet, both of them facing the door. For now, the shop was empty and so they waited in the silence. She sipped her tea once it was cool enough and settled in to update the community log book.

  
It was after dark when the next regular walked in. The bell chimed and in stepped Ramsay Bolton. Colourless skin, dark circles under his eyes, sharp and dark fashion sense, long canines the gleamed in the shop lighting. 

_Vampire._

She rose with a greeting, a tight-lipped smile upon her face. “Evening Ramsay, I presume you’re here to pick up your order.”

“You presume correct.” As she crossed to the mini-fridge, he glanced at the logbook left on the table. “Spying on us still?”

“It is in the community's best interest to have notes,” she replied evenly. 

“Are you going to note this conversation?” His eyes, two chips of dirty ice, settled on her. She gazed back at him impassively. A moment of tension was broken with a bark of laughter. “Oh, you witches can’t take a joke. You were much more unimpressed with my joke about draining peasants of their delectable blood, if memory serves.”

 _That_ had not been a joke. The look on his face, eyes wide and lips curled back and fangs gleaming, was still very visible in her mind's eye. It mattered not, he was here to buy blood instead of hunting it. Blood that had been willingly donated was better than unwillingly drained. 

“Order confirmation, please,” she said, holding out her hand. He slipped her the slightly crumpled paper. She murmured her thanks as she read over it. _One (1) bottle of AB- and one (1) bottle of O._ Their usual. She took the O out of the mini-fridge first, packaging it in the sturdy cardboard. Surrounded by bubble wrap and secured between the corrugated cardboard dividers, it fit snuggly. It was insulated with sigils to ensure it stayed below 10°C. She then, with extra care, packaged the AB-. Ramsay watched intently, unblinking stare following the bottle as it slid into the other segment, jaws snapping together as it was sealed. 

The cardboard box was as tall as the bottles and twice as wide. She’d sealed it well and slapped a large FRAGILE sticker on the side facing Ramsay. Tapping on the till screen, she scanned through the order. “Alright, please sign here to ensure you understand and accept all obligations pertaining to this blood package,” Sansa stressed, pointing to the dotted line on the bottom of a fresh form. He grabbed the pen from her and scribbled his name. His handwriting was huge and spiky. He went to snatch the package but she kept a firm grip upon it. “Oh, and one more thing - how will you be paying today?”

He sneered at her. “Put it on the _Bolton_ tab.”

Knowing Roose would pay the tab - or, rather, he would send Ramsay along with the money - at the end of the month, she had no choice but to relinquish the blood order. He snatched it up, the bottles jostling about in his grip, before bounding from the shop. Once outside, he transformed into a large bat creature. Dark fur covered his body, blending his form into the shadows, and his large ears flicked to follow sounds. He flapped his giant membrane wings and took flight with a screech, package tight in his claws. 

He was gone from sight a few seconds later and she sat down heavily with a sigh. Lady lay her head on Sansa’s knee, a hand petting her familiar. Sipping more tea to calm herself, she made a note in the log to talk with Roose and try to convince him to drink something less rare. She twisted the loose strands of red hair around her fingers and thought of how best to go about it.


End file.
